Fighting Dirty
Page 68

 Lori Foster

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BRAY HUNG BACK, standing with his shoulders pulled forward against the crisp wind. He wore only a T-shirt and jeans and a million emotions clamored for Armie’s attention.
He dropped his bag onto the gravel lot and reached the boy in two long strides. Clasping his shoulders, Armie went with the most pressing concern first. “You’re okay?”
Looking surprised by that question, Bray muttered, “Yeah, sure.”
A slight shake, and Armie demanded, “Where the hell have you been?”
If anything, that made Bray’s expression more confused, as if he’d honestly thought no one would care that he was out on his own.
“I was hanging in the park.”
Jesus, Joseph and Mary. The park, which was pitch-black at night and used more often than not for shady deals too corrupt for daylight. With more emphasis, Armie asked, “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter right now. I have something to tell you.”
“The hell it doesn’t matter. It matters to me, Bray. I told you that. Damn it, I’ve been worried sick.”
Bray tried to shrug off his hands, but Armie didn’t let him go.
“Worried sick?” The kid curled his lip. “You sound like my mom when she isn’t messed up.”
That stole Armie’s ire, because he was pretty sure Bray’s mom stayed messed up. Riding the waves of conflicting emotions, he drew Bray in for a bear hug so tight it made the kid cough. “Shit.” Armie held him back the length of his arms and dipped down to look him in the eyes. “I’m not your mama, boy, you got that? If I was, you could bet your ass I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. Especially after this disappearing act of yours.”
Uncomfortable, Bray wriggled free of Armie’s hold—and Armie let him. Finally getting it together, he stripped off his hoodie and, against Bray’s wishes, stuffed him into it. It fit the kid like a robe.
Armie folded his arms and said, “All right, let’s hear it. What’s going on?”
As if enjoying the warmth, Bray chafed his hands up and down his arms over the thick sweatshirt material. “Some people, I don’t know who but they sounded bad...well, they’re setting up your girlfriend. At least, I guess she’s your girlfriend.”
Armie stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
“There were three big dudes in the park last night. I couldn’t hear everything they said but I heard your name, so I tried to sneak closer to listen.”
No freaking way. Armie’s chest hurt. “You—”
“They didn’t hear me,” Bray assured him. “But they said something about getting it done once and for all.”
The fact that Rissy was still at the bank gave Armie a small measure of calm. One thing at a time, he told himself. “Getting what done? How?”
“I don’t know. I was scared, so I missed a lot of what was said. But it sounded like...like maybe they’re setting up a lady to help them out. She’s going to be like an interviewer or something. One of the guys...” Bray hedged, his face down.
“One of the guys?” Armie encouraged him.
“He said you’re a rapist.”
Pain sliced into him and he stepped back.
Bray said nothing. He just stared at him as the air grew charged with the impending storm.
“It’s not true,” Armie finally told him. He didn’t care what most people thought of him. But he wanted, needed, Bray to know the truth.
“I figured.” Bray shoved his hands deep in the pockets of the sweatshirt. “Some of my mom’s men...sometimes they make her do things.”
Shit. Just...shit.
“But you’re not like them.” Voice strained, Bray gestured broadly toward the direction of the rec center. “None of you are.”
“None of us,” Armie swore. “Come on.”
Bray tried to hold back, but with a hand on his elbow, Armie tugged him along anyway.
“Where are we going?”
“To check on my girlfriend.” My girlfriend. Bray’s word for Rissy, and while it sounded ridiculous, Armie enjoyed saying it all the same. “I want you with me.”
“But—”
Armie opened the passenger door and more or less hoisted the kid into his seat. “You came here to tell me, right? I need all the details.”
“But—”
The closing of the truck door cut off whatever Bray planned to say. Keeping an eye on him in case he bolted, Armie circled around the hood to the other side and got behind the wheel. “Seat belt on.”
“This is nuts.”
“Yeah it is. Crazy nuts.” He speed-dialed Rissy. Unfortunately it went to voice mail. “Shit.”
“No answer?”
“Not yet.” Armie started the truck. “I’ll keep trying while we head to her work. On the way, you can tell me everything.”
“I already did.”
“What’d they look like?”
“I don’t know. It was dark and...and I was afraid to stick my head out and look.”
Reaching over, Armie squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “Thank God for small favors. Glad to know you showed some common sense.” Armie sensed it when Bray smiled. He glanced at him while hitting Redial for Rissy. “What?”
“Nothing. You’re just weird, that’s all.”
“Weird, huh? Because I don’t want you to take crazy-ass risks?”
Bray turned somber. “Maybe.”
Still no answer. Should he head to the apartment or to the bank? He opted for the bank. If she called him back in the meantime, then he’d change plans.
Now for Bray... “You can’t go back out on your own.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
Armie didn’t miss the note of relief. Maybe Bray had needed a reason to come back. “I thought you liked your foster family.”
He turned his face to look out the window. “I do.”
“Then why run?”
Silence stretched out, the windows grew foggy and Armie tried Rissy again. Still no answer—and damn it, he was starting to get seriously pissed. Maybe he should give Cannon a call. Her brother might be closer...
“They said they want to adopt me.”
Whoa. Armie felt like he’d waded into very dangerous territory; he didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing. “They did, huh?” In the long run a good thing, but he could imagine Bray’s internal conflict.
With his face still averted, Bray nodded. Tension built—and cracked. “Guess...” His voice went thick. “Guess my mom said okay.”
Fucking son of a bitch. Armie gripped the wheel tight enough to snap it. Rage wouldn’t help the kid any so he tried to tamp it down, but it wasn’t easy. Damn Bray’s mother for not wanting him. Damn her for not being a better mom.
Damn this all for feeling too familiar.
“She said the state won’t let Russell back with me around.” Bray hunkered tighter into the corner. “Says she loves me, but I guess she loves him more.”
Maybe, Armie thought, it was a blessing that he’d been where Bray was at now, because it gave him a little insight.
Uncertainty hung with him, but he forged ahead anyway. “Look, I suck at this,” Armie said, going with the truth. “But here’s the thing, kid. Your life is what it is, and it’s how you react to it that’s going to matter. My mom and dad both were jellyfish.”